Chapter 56 Soul Imprint: Goodbye, Xiao Ming

The scream was piercing and shrill. You looked up instantly, scanned the entire coffee shop, and found that the other customers remained as usual, showing no reaction to the scream.

"It's her." Xiaoming left these words behind, and before you were even a little dazed, he had already rushed out and grabbed the person.

You followed closely behind and saw a very inconspicuous woman slumped in the corner of the coffee shop, clutching her chest, pinned against the wall by Xiaoming.

Liquidators.

"You broke her rules, so she suffered a backlash," Xiaoming explained briefly.

"She's lucky. Although there are many loopholes in the rules, the original rules were simple, so the backlash wasn't too severe. She's still alive at this point." Xiaoming locked her neck. "How long have you been following her?"

The other person suddenly raised their head, their eyes brimming with wariness and hatred: "Dirty murderer, she deserves to be executed!"

Xiao Ming pinched her mouth shut.

"Stop rambling." Xiaoming interrupted her, his tone icy. "She never goes out. You must have been observing her for days before making your move in a place like this."

The liquidator gritted his teeth and glared at Xiaoming, but said nothing.

"say!"

"You're carrying..." The woman sensed something, her pupils contracted, and her disgust vanished as a surge of fear washed over her. "Who are you?"

Xiao Ming glanced at you subconsciously, then lowered his eyelashes, turned back, and continued to press you: "Since you can sense it, then answer me. How did you discover her? And how long did you secretly observe her?"

The Purifier finally couldn't hold back any longer and spoke, his voice trembling slightly: "I was just passing by when I saw her soul imprint, so..."

"Don't lie. How did you find her, what did you rely on, and how did you follow her?" Xiaoming asked, his fingernails digging deep into the flesh of her face.

You watched from the side, reaching out to touch Xiaoming, but ultimately withdrew your hand.

"What do you want to do?" the woman asked, her voice trembling with despair.

Xiao Ming sneered and leaned close to her ear: "She's going to stay here for several more days. I also want to know where the flaw is."

The liquidator's lips moved for a moment, but the voice still escaped: "The window glass is for privacy, but when the lights are on at night, people outside can see inside, so the soul imprint... won't be blocked."

What? ?

Being secretly observed for a long time in your own private space is more disgusting than eating poison. And the apartment even specifically marked with privacy glass—that's just too dangerous!

“It’s alright. As long as it’s a closed house, it’s our own safe house. Even if others see it, they should just gouge their own eyes out. It won’t have a real impact on us,” Xiaoming smiled at you, then continued to the liquidator, “You answered very well, but you still haven’t told me why it was her? If you continue to say it was just a coincidence, I will kill you directly.” He spoke casually.

A flicker of struggle crossed the purger's eyes as she gasped, "Her soul imprint is far more pronounced than most; it's more evident in murderers with heinous crimes." She flared up again, "That's why I have to do this! She deserves to die! She—"

This is ridiculous! "What's so different about my soul imprint?" you questioned.

Despite being wary of Xiaoming, the liquidator managed to utter a few words with difficulty: "It's too bright. I've never seen such a bright mark before."

"Alright," Xiaoming interrupted her coldly. "Just because He gave you power, you think you're a messenger of justice, right? You idiot."

As if realizing what was about to happen, the liquidator began to tremble violently. She shook her head desperately, and muffled sounds came from her throat, which was being held by Xiaoming, but she couldn't say anything.

Your mindset has changed again, and you've fallen into deep thought about your soul imprint.

Xiaoming pulled a small bottle from her pocket, then took out the knife she always carried, the one you had borrowed many times, squinted and estimated for a moment, before swiftly slitting the throat of the person who had been cleared out.

She placed her hand in a spot that wouldn't cause blood to splatter, but what flowed out was black, muddy water that looked like oil.

She put it in a small bottle, shook the bottle, and handed it to you: "Here you go."

Your gaze is forced to shift from your inner contemplation back to what's in front of you. This thick, black liquid is like a black hole, capable of sucking in all the light around you.

"The Purifier's blood is the best concealment tool, but it has one drawback," Xiaoming said slowly, "its effect weakens over time."

“You need to replenish it frequently,” she said, taking the pendant from her collar—another small vial of black water that was even more concentrated and incredibly fresh.

You stare intently at Xiaoming, and she looks back at you. A few short exchanges have turned your problems from minor troubles into a tangled mess, but you never imagined that Xiaoming was also shrouded in such mystery.

"So you really like Tibetan," you said.

"Hmm." Xiao Ming's voice fell to the ground. "Who knew it would be such a coincidence that the Liquidator appeared as soon as he said he would."

“Alright, I don’t want to play games with you.” You looked earnestly into Xiaoming’s eyes. “If you’re afraid that telling me directly what you’ve done will make me misunderstand you, then you don’t have to. I’m just an ordinary person, and I also… have double standards. You are the first person to help me, and you have always been the one to help me, give me the opportunity to trust you, and choose to stand by me. These things will never change.”

“I won’t judge your experiences or your views on these things, and I can’t offer any advice. This world is too… too difficult. I have no right to, and I won’t, judge you, because I don’t want to be judged by anyone. So,” you said, taking Xiaoming’s hand, “stop acting. It feels really weird to me.”

Does this guy think he's acting in a TV drama? Is he deliberately exposing a seemingly evil and vicious side just to scare someone away?

"Do you know what it feels like when someone who seems really gentle—even if you know they're more than that—suddenly becomes incredibly dramatic? You only get excited watching this in TV dramas or anime! Watching this makes me want to laugh but I have to hold it in!" You grab Xiaoming's shoulders and shake him wildly.

Xiao Ming blushed and defended himself, saying, "How could it be so strange? I've always been this way; you just haven't seen me like this before."

"Alright, alright, you ruthless sis, I know, I know. But from now on, just say what you want to say directly. Don't test me like this; it's too hurtful." You put the small bottle back into her hand. "You and I may make different choices, but I still hope to be considered a good partner by you."

Seeing that you were unwilling to take the small bottle, Xiaoming hesitated for a moment, but didn't insist. As she put the bottle back in her backpack, she lowered her head and smiled knowingly. You said, "Ha! I see! Are some people secretly gloating right now?"

"Hey, now I realize that what Xiao Fang said was absolutely right." Xiao Ming rarely felt so speechless, so he decided to leave you hanging with those words, picked up the packaged snacks, and walked outside.

"What? You're talking badly about me behind my back? You didn't say it while I was out of my mind, did you? What else did you say? Tell me right now!" You took off chasing after them.

"Oh no, I forgot."

"Xiao Ming!"

…

You had planned to go shopping with Xiaoming again today, but the sudden change of events unexpectedly made both of you feel much more relaxed.

You've just had some snacks to tide you over, so there's no rush for lunch. You're just wandering around the streets aimlessly.

Those boutique shops aren't very interesting to browse, and you're also worried that if you spend too much in this instance, you might become a poor student again in the next instance, and it will be difficult to go back to being frugal.

Fortunately, the quirky little shops in the middle of these main streets or in the alleys are also quite interesting.

"This is the authentic Yinglun flavor." Xiaoming shared a small dish of street curry with you, exclaiming sincerely.

After you finish eating standing up, walk to the square in Covent Garden, which is more lively than usual today.

Street performers set up their displays, with some playing classical music on the violin, others dressed in comical costumes as statues, and a fire-breathing performer attracting a large crowd of tourists.

“Look at that person!” Xiao Ming pointed to a statue performer covered in silver paint. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

"Ugh, it looks so good it makes my skin itch." You shuddered, feeling non-existent goosebumps.

Xiao Ming laughed heartily and dragged you over to see.

When the other person saw you approach, they immediately changed their posture, facing you and striking a comical pose reminiscent of The Thinker, until you gave them a two-pound tip. Only then did they remove their hat and make a gesture of thanks before switching sides and standing properly.

It's still interesting.

Then you were stopped by a street performer. When he saw your Chinese appearance, he immediately took out a microphone and loudly asked if you were Chinese.

The entire open space was filled with the message "Where are you from?", and Xiaoming, deliberately mischievous, pushed you up there. You had no choice but to bite the bullet and reveal your place of origin.

You thought you could leave now, but she became even more interested and insisted that she could sing a song from the Flower Kingdom and that you should sing it with her.

"Xiaoming...save me..." You reach out your helpless hands to Xiaoming.

Xiao Ming also raised his hand—and held up his phone.

"Keep it up!" she said.

The street performer's speaker is already playing a melody, and with the microphone in your hand, you have no choice but to sing.

"I hear you are so beautiful~ I am so beautiful~" the street performer began to sing softly, and your small voice accompanied her.

"It sounds great!" Xiaoming cheered, and all you could do was wring a pathetic fist at her with the hand that wasn't being held by the artist while she was holding the microphone.

A few minutes later, the onlookers burst into enthusiastic applause, and although you weren't as embarrassed as you had imagined, you still felt a bit like you were fleeing in embarrassment.

"This is life," Xiaoming exclaimed, showing you the video she recorded of you.

"I hate you," you said.

"Really?" Xiaoming asked back.

“Okay, it’s fake,” you said.

"cut."

Watching Xiaoming's retreating figure as she buys crepes, you feel that after she told you what might be her deepest secrets, the brief yet profound bond between you two seems to be evolving into a spiritual dependence.

You can't help but hope you'll see it in the next instance.

If this is the last day we'll see each other, then enjoy it to the fullest. Try to catch up with Xiaoming.

You passed by another hidden independent bookstore. Xiaoming was immediately drawn to the bookstore's window display.

"Go take a look, you might find some good books." She pushed open the door and beckoned you inside.

This bookstore is small but cozy, with shelves full of old Yingwen books and a special corner displaying rare collections. As you browse among the books, if you encounter Yingwen that you don't understand, Xiaoming will translate it for you.

"How about this one?" she asked, handing you a novel with a worn-out cover.

You took it and looked at it; it was a collection of London ghost stories from the 19th century.

“That’s interesting. Maybe reading the stories in the dungeon will be more inspiring than searching for the little green book online.” You flipped through the pages and sighed, “Unfortunately, I get a headache just looking at these words. Reading a lot of non-native languages ​​is quite tiring.”

"That's absolutely right." Xiao Ming nodded with a smile. "We might as well buy it. We can study it slowly when we get back and see if it gives us any inspiration."

After leaving the bookstore, you turned into a small park. It was a quiet place, almost like another world, with few people around.

You sat on a bench, basking in the sun, eating ice cream and chatting about things you'd done alone. Xiaoming occasionally teased you, and you threw ice cubes at her in return, your laughter echoing through the park.

We were supposed to have a flower-themed lunch, but you all wandered a bit too far and ended up eating at an enamel restaurant near the park.

You ordered the seasonal oysters and grilled lobster tails, but Xiaoming only ate steak and fries. After the meal, he enjoyed a glass of the restaurant's homemade sweet fruit wine.

After leaving the restaurant, you were all reluctant to part ways so soon, so you continued to wander around aimlessly.

Until we reached the end of a street, we discovered an old church.

Next to the church is a charity secondhand shop, with old clothes and household items displayed in the window.

"Let's go in and take a look," Xiaoming said casually, and you casually agreed.

The store has a warm and nostalgic atmosphere, with wooden shelves filled with all sorts of items, from old records to vintage suitcases. A kind-looking old lady stands behind the counter, smiling and nodding at you.

There weren't too many customers, and most of them were quietly browsing through cheap and useful secondhand goods. You were also rummaging through the clothing section, occasionally picking up a piece of clothing to examine it for a few moments, then shaking your head and putting it back.

"What do you think of this?" she suddenly picked up a dress with a vintage pattern. "Doesn't it look like something a 20th-century noblewoman from England would wear?"

"It looks more like a 20th-century kitchen apron," you can't help but complain.

"You have no taste," Xiaoming said dismissively.

Nothing here is the same; just looking at it is dazzling and very fun.

If we were to discuss its history and uses, there would be plenty of interesting things to talk about, even if it was just random rambling.

Sometimes you stand side by side searching, and sometimes one of you will be attracted by a strange or unusual object, and you will split up at a fork in the road, and then meet again with a seemingly interesting second-hand item each.

Xiao Ming picked out a scarf embroidered with patterns and said with a smile, "This looks like something my grandma would wear when she was young, it's retro and artistic." You then picked up a worn-out top hat and, imitating a gentleman's gesture from an old movie, made an exaggerated gentleman's bow, which made Xiao Ming burst into laughter.

"You're a troublemaker who'll get beaten up every day." Xiaoming holds grudges; even now, she's still holding a grudge for saying that the dress she liked was an apron.

"It seems we've stumbled into a crack in time." You, however, don't respond.

Xiao Ming nodded, a relaxed smile on his face: "If that's really the case, that's good too. The air here feels more relaxing than outside."

Just as you were about to reply, Xiaoming's phone rang. She glanced down at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly, and held up the phone to you: "It's a work call; it might take a while."

You made a gesture of pulling your lips up, exaggeratedly tiptoed around Xiaoming, and only behaved after she slapped you.

A few minutes later, Xiaoming's smile vanished. She hung up the phone, her face full of impatience: "It's just an internship, why are there so many problems? If I wasn't worried about making mistakes in the last few days, I would have applied for sick leave immediately."

"I'm sorry, I have to go." Xiaoming took your hand.

The parting came so quickly, and you felt bad, but you could only wave your hand and pretend to be relaxed: "It's okay, we've had enough fun today anyway. You go ahead and get busy."

Xiao Ming looked at you, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "Okay, then I'm leaving. Take care."

You hugged, and then Xiaoming turned and left.

You called out to her again, "Xiaoming!"

"What's wrong?"

"Next dungeon, let's play it safe, even if we have to play it safe a little, we'll see you in the real world!" you said, then stepped forward and hugged her tightly.

"Yeah. You too. If it's absolutely necessary, don't worry about any bottom lines. The most important thing is to stay alive." Xiaoming leaned on your shoulder and said softly.

Now, Xiaoming really has to leave.

See you on the road ahead!

You watch her walk out of the store, her steps light as the wind, until she disappears into the street.

After seeing Xiaoming off, you stood in the center of the shop and felt a sense of emptiness for a moment.

You looked up at the old-fashioned chandelier hanging from the ceiling; its light was warm but somewhat dim. You sighed, then quickly cheered up.

Going home like this just leaves me feeling a bit emotionally dejected. Since I'm already here, I might as well linger a bit longer; maybe I can find something good.

You stroll slowly along the clothes rack, your fingers gliding over the fabric of each garment, feeling their texture and sense of age. A well-tailored trench coat catches your eye.

The trench coat is dark brown, with smooth lines on the cuffs and hem. Although it is a second-hand item, it is in excellent condition and even has a faint fragrance.

You picked up the trench coat, stood in front of the large mirror on the wall, and held it up to your chest. Its style was retro yet unconventional, and you felt secretly pleased, a smile playing on your lips.

But just as you nod and praise yourself in the mirror, your smile freezes.

If I'm not mistaken, didn't the "you" in the mirror just blink quickly?

Moreover, is there someone behind this?

You glance to both sides out of the corner of your eye, and then slowly turn around. There's nothing behind you; it's just your imagination.

When you turn your head again, the "you" in the mirror is facing you sideways.

Then it slowly, little by little, turned around.

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Author's note: Good evening!